Civility
by ashirisu
Summary: Plagued by visions and ghost pains, taunted by hallucinations and thoughts that aren't his own. Alfred, currently torn apart by the Civil War, has turned Schizophrenic and is tortured by a familiar face with cold, gray eyes.


He's here again.

That _thing_, the one who looks like me.

He's laughing. Pulling my hair and taunting me and I'm crying and telling him to go away but he just won't go, won't leave me alone.

He's got the fire poker now, he's twirling it and saying things and it's growing rust and what's he going to do with it-

No! Please! Stop hitting me, I'm sorry! I'm sorry, it hurts! Please stop! Stop it, I can't-

And then it stops. Is it over...? I don't want to believe it's over, but he's not there anymore.

All I know is that it's suddenly very warm, and I don't like it...no, now it's stifling hot! I don't remember lighting a fire, why is it so warm?

Flames! Flames everywhere, climbing up my legs and burning me and melting my skin and the pain is unbearable and now everyone is here and they're watching me, watching me writhe and burn and they're _laughing..._telling me how stupid I am and how I shouldn't have made an issue of this...

They're not helping, WHY AREN'T THEY HELPING!?

ENGLAND, FRANCE! SPAIN AND ITALY, WHY? Why are you just standing there, making fun of me while I'm dying! Why aren't you-

There he is again...that thing. That me, who is my exact likeness except for cold, gray eyes. He stands behind them, and suddenly there are more of him, one behind each of the others and I realize...

They're all his allies, and I'm alone. Nobody cares about me, they don't want me to stand up and try to fix this horrible problem because they're getting money for it. They WANT him to take me, to split me open and GOD this fire it hurts, why won't I die? Why can't I just die and make the pain go away!?

Singing. Eerie singing like in those stories they tell. Children singing...I recognize them. I can name them, these children. Here's Carolina and her sister... and Virginia, Alabama. Florida, Mississippi, Georgia, Louisiana. Texas, Arkansas, Tennesee. Singing, surrounding me and swaying with their creepy chant. Children...please, save me, don't let me burn!

But no, they're...they're fanning the flames, throwing in kindling to make it bigger, burn hotter! I choke and my eyes water from the smoke and it stings in my throat and I beg but still they throw more on and they're changing shape and color and their song is in my head and GET OUT OF MY HEAD, GET OUT GET OUT!

And they change shape and go together and suddenly they're him, and he's smiling down evilly as I squirm and try to get out of this fire, this horrible fire! And he kicks me in the stomach and spits in my face and says terrible things, terrible things...

He's going to hurt me. He's going to hurt me again, come into my dreams and turn them into nightmares and kill me while I'm sleeping and I won't be able to fight it-

But do I want to fight it? It would be so easy just to die...all of this would go away.

My head...no...I can't die. I can't do it, I have to stay strong for the ones who still want me to stand. I have to fight back, I have to-

But this PAIN, I can't stand it, and he's hurting me and my whole body is shaking and I can't move and now he's...now he's...

No! Please, I don't want that! Stop it, make it stop! I can't take it!

WHY WON'T YOU GO AWAY!?

I'm choking and bleeding and he's done with his latest torture as he leaves me broken and violated and crying on the floor. He kicks me in the face and blood gushes from my broken nose and there's ringing in my ears and my eyes are nearly swollen shut and my glasses are broken-

Of course they're broken. Texas.

My head...my body...I've gone crazy, haven't I?

I'm insane, he's gotten into my head and poisoned my mind and that's why nobody's helping me, they think I'll snap and I'll kill them. But they won't help me...they won't help...they won't help...they won't help...they won't help...no one will help...I'll show them...I'll show them not to abandon me, the United States of America...I'll make an example...I only need one, I just need to wrap my hands around their neck and squeeze just a little and then they'll see...they'll see that they should help me...

No. No, I can't. That's murder, they're my friends!

Some friends, abandoning me when I need them...just one...

NO! I won't do it, stop making me think these things! GET OUT OF MY HEAD!

But how good would it feel to show them...to have the satisfaction of having that life in my hands and then _crushing_ it...

NO! STOP IT, GET OUT OF MY HEAD!

I run to the kitchen, stumbling and tripping, and there are thorny weeds growing at my feet and they're scratching me and it hurts and stings and it's ripping open my skin and sticking to my socks and the sweat is running in and the salt stings and-

I fall to the floor and it's lava, searing me and why does this hurt so much, why won't it stop! I reach up...the knife...I can hurt him if I have this weapon...

The handle is ice, it hurts...It hurts! It stings and the blade is covered in poison and why is it like this, it's never like this-

There he is again! Swipe, swipe with the blade but it just goes through him and he vanishes like a spirit because of course he's not real but he IS real because now he's bleeding and why does this hurt so bad in my stomach-

It hurts because it's me and now I feel like I've been stabbed and why can't I hurt him! I hurt him and it just hurts me...

Maybe...maybe if I press the blade to my wrist and god it hurts and I can see the blood welling up and it hurts so bad but he screams and then-

He's gone. It's all gone. Just me, lying on my kitchen floor. There's no more fire, no more weeds, no more scratches, no more voices. I'm whole again. Just me...just me...silence. Sweet, blessed silence. My only wound is the one from the kitchen knife, this small slice on my wrist. It hurts...oh the wonderful, _real_ pain.

I replace the knife and clean my wrist. Real blood, real pain. I sigh and close my eyes, and I allow a small smile to ghost across my lips.

Peace...with pain comes peace.

I'll remember this...keep a blade with me. When he...when _I _try to hurt myself...I'll remember.

Finally...finally a bit of peace.

Finally some civility.


End file.
